


seven months too long

by Lkcsi



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: M/M, sex mention, slight stream of consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 05:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lkcsi/pseuds/Lkcsi
Summary: Being away from each other for seven months has Yuri excited for their reunion.For the BottomLowell2k19 event on Tumblr. Prompt: distance.





	seven months too long

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the #BottomLowell2k19, and I hope this entertains!

Returning to Zaphias got Yuri much more giddy than usual. His quick and dancey gait as he walked from the Lower Quarter up towards the Royal Quarter betrayed his excitement--seven long months of not seeing and kissing Flynn's infuriatingly beautiful face was just seven months too long for him. 

As he tried not to dance to his way to the castle, he felt it was far easier for him to ignore the indignant looks of overdressed and uptight nobles that judged him and his _scandalous clothing befitting a pauper whore_. He had a boyfriend to meet. No one was going to destroy that for him. 

He wove his way through the roads and buildings towards the castle. If the last of what he heard from Flynn was right, he still occupied the same stuffy room he had when he was still a bodyguard. He snorted at the thought of the Commandant still staying in that stuffy room, briefly wondering if he'd noticed that the door hinges were dented from Zagi's ruthlessness and his own bad, but passable, handiwork. Was it out of sentiment, Yuri asked himself, and he quickly got to the conclusion that maybe Flynn was being a huge sappy sentimental man. Or he just was too lazy to move rooms. It wasn't out of the question. It made Yuri's heart flutter a bit. Thoughts of Flynn being adorable always lifted his spirits--like that one time a scammer took a fourth of Brave Vesperia's finances and Flynn was a literal saving grace for his temper. He had been ready to turn Dahngrest upside down and shake out that vermin until a mailperson arrived holding a letter from Flynn. Flynn had been rambling on and on for several pages (a total of twenty-two pages, back to back) about the view in Ehmead Hill and the pretty Halure tree and the small vacation he was granted and the eastern seashore and the seashells on the seashore, wishing Yuri was there by his side, and the images invoked in the letter were so vivid that he wished he also had Flynn's gift for writing so he could return his feelings.

Even though he knew Flynn always appreciated his crude commentary about his travels.

Yuri spotted Leblanc, now wearing a fusion of purple and light yellow, standing guard at the grand entrance of the castle, body stiff and halberd firm in his grasp, so he sauntered up to the knight with a taunting smirk.

"Hey, Le-blank. Whacha doing?"

With a huff, Leblanc corrected him. "Leblanc. There's something called a nasal vowel. Yuri Lowell, why are you here?"

"Aww, such painful words. Didn't even answer me. My friend Le-blank doesn't miss me!" He jeered at the knight and gracefully put his foot on the first white tile of the castle floor with a smirk. "Now if you don't mind, I have someone to meet. Flynn Scifo. Know him? Heard he was Commandant since, uh, a few years ago, I think? Ring a bell?"

"Normally we ask for identification," the knight started, "but since the sight of you right now is filling me with an urge to wring your neck, I guess I'd let you pass."

He laughed. "I guess, if seeing me and somehow, you don't want to snap my neck, then there's something wrong."

The knight paused, his eyes briefly flicking upwards in thought. "I think so. Yuri Lowell," his voice took on a threatening tone yet again, "even if you are on a first name basis with Emperor Ioder, you are not above the law."

"I know, I know." Yuri waved his hand and shrugged. He inwardly rejected the notion that he was on a first name basis with the Emperor, though.

"You may now pa-"

"By the way, what's with the eyesore of a uniform you have there? Get promoted or something?"

Leblanc opened his mouth with a sound of mixed surprise and annoyance, before stammering out his answer. "No, I didn't get a promotion. Captain Schwann- I mean, Captain Rav- well, our Captain wanted a change of colors for his brigade the other week. Commandant Scifo allowed it."

"... huh." Somehow the thought of Raven re-embracing his role as a captain of the Imperial Knights was peculiar. For goodness' sake, he just met the man in a tavern the other day. Raven had already denied his Schwann identity for a long time. Was the old man having some sort of a midlife crisis? (Possible.) "Anyway, I'll go inside. I promise I won't push over a vase or something."

Leblanc snorted. "You better not."

And with that Yuri's thoughts went back to Flynn, and he held his breath for the entire walk from the entrance to the hallway to Flynn's room. He lifted a hand to knock on the door. At first, his knock was too soft, his knuckles turning into jelly as the butterflies in his stomach began fluttering wildly inside. He cursed the butterflies--they'd already been in a relationship since before storming Tarqaron and he still gets them? 

The seconds it took for Flynn to stand up from wherever he was was like hours to Yuri--the scraping of a chair, the clang of a teacup being set down on a porcelain plate, the thuds of heavy steel footsteps, and finally, the lock turning with a click and the door opening.

He could only imagine what his own face looked like when Flynn appeared in front of him. In an instant the most beautiful Flynn was beaming with smiles. It made his knees weak, his mind fly into chaos, and his heart to pound on his ribs.

"Heya, Flynn," Yuri croaked out. Before he could say anything else, Flynn pulled him inside, locked the door, and within an instant he grabbed Yuri's face and began to pepper his beloved's cheeks and lips with loving pecks, which felt suspiciously hot. Yuri couldn't do anything but to laugh and to lean in the many kisses and run his hands through Flynn's soft blond hair. Flynn liked that, he thought to himself as he ruffled his messy hair. Eventually, Flynn stopped once he decided that he'd already reached his goal of a thousand and more kisses, and so armored arms snaked around Yuri's waist.

"Wow. What a hello I've gotten today. I feel so... blessed. And loved."

"I missed you so much, Yuri," Flynn breathed into his ear, before resting on the crook of Yuri's neck. His hands settled on Yuri's hips and pulled him as close as possible to his own body, and he breathed in his lover's scent, his last memory of it being so, so long ago. Yuri responded, ruffling his lover's hair a little more before holding him close.

"Missed you too, you beautiful idiot." 

Time passed as the two of them stood there, bodies pressed together and arms locked around each other, in silence. 

For Yuri, the discomfort of the metal pauldrons poking his jaw was outweighed by the sheer relief and warmth from having Flynn close to him. He was again close to him, within sight, within arm's reach, within hugging radius. The ache of seven months alone in so many places around the world yet so far away from Zaphias melted away in the heat of the embrace. 

Alone in the city of Dahngrest, where the guilds gravitated towards, even though his friends in Brave Vesperia and even new ones from other guilds were there. Alone in Mantaic, the fuckhot place beside the vast Sands of Kogorh (which he still hated), where he saw the aquamarine uniform of the Flynn Brigade, his heart leaping at the thought of meeting him unexpectedly, only to be told by the knights Flynn had just left a few hours before. Alone in Nordopolica, where talking to Natz about a permanent alliance reminded him of Flynn and how negotiation was totally his thing, and not Yuri's. Alone in Heliord, where he waltzed up to Ioder His Majesty just to ask where his lover was. Before he could even ask, the emperor already answered the unspoken question, which was yet another letdown. Yuri swore Ioder could read minds. Alone in Halure, where the flowers were at eternal bloom and dancing around the prosperous city, the house Estelle owned overdecorated with ornamental flowering plants, his window facing Zaphias in the starry nighttime sky, his private thoughts stirring his arousal. 

Even the presence of people, and Repede, and also a giant blue Entelexeia, that were dear to him was different to having just Flynn with him. It wasn't to say that he wasn't happy around his friends; Judith still scared the crap out of him sometimes, Karol was a funny kid in the role of a guild leader, Ba'ul developed a sassy personality apparently, his new guild friends were people he could count on, Estelle and Rita were both fun to watch as they worked on alchemy together, hell, even Duke would emerge from thin air sometimes and say something weird. Weird, like 'the wind gives no warning as to what comes in the future'. He wasn't really unhappy in other activities like fighting monsters, too, although nothing really compared to the fact he and his friends split the harbinger of the apocalypse in half. Literally nothing topped that. It was a different kind of happiness when alone with Flynn, hugging each other, pleasing each other. Just the two of them, together, after so long so far apart.

It was like the crack of dawn, the first signs of sun being the orange horizon, and eventually the sun peeking through whatever valley it chose to sleep in. It was like rain after months of drought, the thunder and overcast clouds bringing hope. It was even like eating his favorite dessert, creamy and sweet and cold, after ordeals that seemed to go on for eternity or a lazy day of doing nothing but to sleep in.

For Flynn, hugging Yuri was an emotional rollercoaster. One moment, a moment that lasted seven months, was full of work, all of it uncomfortable. Devoid of any true respite and having to bottle up some rage. The next moment came like the late cavalry in a nigh-hopeless battle. It was seven months of no Yuri to rejuvenate his soul and mind, until now at least, when Yuri was close enough for him to crush in a hug.

Being the leader of the Imperial Knights brought him a new perspective on the world of politics, too. The expectations of others rarely let him find time to be free. Freedom was a luxury to honest persons. The nobility, especially the higher ones, regularly tested his already-little patience with their thinly veiled insults about his origins in the Lower Quarter and constantly having to test his worth as a Commandant. Flynn's subordinates, literally every knight of the empire, looked up to him for guidance in the new world he and his friends created in the face of the end of the world, for some kind of direction in a rapidly changing world, spinning around with no sign of stopping anytime in their lives. He'd gotten into talks with Harry Whitehorse of Dahngrest, and even though it's been going well so far, it still brought him migraines and fevers. Sometimes, he took time to cry for himself. He already knew the price of having to climb up the ranks to change the world to one of justice and peace rather than one of corruption and hatred, yet it all felt cold and empty without the one he made this promise with. The one he changed the world with. The one who was his world. He watched humanity trudge forward from darker times of unrest and hatred towards where the rays of hope shone. 

The feelings of being unfit for his role often plagued him. Ioder had that covered though, His Majesty's utmost support unwavering, trust placed upon his shoulders, yet that trust sometimes became a burden. It was Yuri's actions that catapulted him into position in the first place. Despite that, he strove to be as good as they wanted him to be, and more. His own brigade, Sodia and Witcher gave it their all. The Schwann Brigade (Raven Brigade? What even is their name anymore? Schraven? Yuri would hate this.) viewed him as an equal to their esteemed captain. He saw them admiring him as a Commandant from the Lower Quarter. Only after a while did he realize: he was much like the legend of Schwann Oltorain. It made him feel a warmth. Those words often gave him small comfort from that secret fear he had. And here he was, hugging the love of his life, who'd probably say a seething insult, as hot as Efreet's flame, as a compliment. A language only they could understand, aside from stifled gasps and moans of each other's name.

Yuri was like a pillow for Flynn, soft and huggable, warm in cold nights, and also perhaps something that lifts his head up. He was like a shield, a snarky fucking shield, that protected him from threats in the shadows. Embracing Yuri was like the melody of a music box lulling him to sleep from a day of endless fighting. It was the sunshine from days of storm. A wonderful strawberry cake, iced with pure sugar and decorated with mangoes, paired with his favorite food that month, which was chicken curry, the meat swimming in hot pepper right before cooking. The most wonderful combination of food ever.

"Your breath smells like an unholy sea of chilli," Yuri spoke, breaking the silence into millions of tiny angry pieces. Flynn pulled away and saw the half-smirk, half-grimace on Yuri's face.

"I just ate chicken curry for lunch."

Yuri glanced at the empty plate and the half-full teacup on Flynn's dining table, and the white bowl was almost discolored in a shade of red that reminded him of copper. "I'm not sure if I want to eat curry that spicy. I mean, curry sometimes has chilli but damn, Flynn. It's too spicy. Also, tea? What's that. Peppermint?"

"It's chamomile. And it's not that spicy!" Flynn spat back before suddenly pausing. His mind went back to the sight of Witcher and Sodia in the dining hall, where he'd cooked his own chicken curry, screaming at the pot he left behind. 'Hot! Hot hot hot!,' they screeched as they poured milk down their throats. Upon seeing their leader they instantly stood at attention. He noticed their red and leaking eyes and suddenly they began shouting their apologies at insulting his culinary skills. It simply baffled Flynn until that moment. "Does my cooking really taste that bad? I doubt it. It's just mild meatiness in little spice. I only put two bottles!"

"Your breath stinks of the essence of chilli pepper, Flynn," Yuri sighed, "and no one's going to like that, except for you. You need your tongue checked."

"... is it really that spicy?" With a mischievous grin he smirked at his lover, who responded with a curious raised brow. He captured him again in a hug and thrust his face closer to Yuri's. Yuri reacted with a gasp and widened eyes, pulling back in pure reflex. Flynn spoke, his voice dripped with intent. Intent that had to be suppressed for seven months.

Yuri sucked in a deep breath when Flynn's hands dropped from his hips to his ass to squeeze.

"Want to check my tongue?"

"_Oh my goodness_, Flynn, you're really bad at sedu-"

But it was too late. Flynn had already pressed his lips, his hot lips, figuratively and literally, on Yuri's. Poor Yuri felt the brunt of the heat of the chilli when Flynn's tongue breached his mouth, hot and sweet, a searing matrimony of flavors of hell's curry. Yuri didn't dare to resist the assault of spice despite the sheer strength of it, for it was Flynn's. This was his unique taste--his brand of kiss. He loved it, Flynn being assertive and domineering, feeling his lover's hands reach behind him and undo his cloth belt. He let himself be engulfed in the kiss, his own tongue tracing Flynn's mouth and finding new feelings despite doing this a thousand times before. He dared, with shaking arms, to bring his hands back up Flynn's hair and feel the minute movements under his fingertips, and took in a sharp breath when his lover rolled his hips right into his growing hardness. 

When Flynn pulled back, Yuri licked his lips. 

"Flynn, it's really spicy. My mouth's burning..."

Flynn leaned in to whisper in Yuri's ear. "Not for me. It's just mild," he spoke so softly as he gently maneuvered Yuri onto his bed. He pulled Yuri's already-open shirt further apart and shoved him down on his back, tracing a finger on his chest and watching Yuri shudder and blush in anticipation. "So why don't you spice up my afternoon a little more? I've been craving this for months."

"Heh. Do your worst, chilli freak."

Flynn couldn't pass it up. He kissed Yuri again.


End file.
